Perhaps, they'll listen now: Van Gogh
There has never been a museum going experience for me, like my time at the Van Gogh Museum.
It moved me to tears.
but first… the back story
I’ve always known who Van Gogh was from his Sunflowers and Starry Night to Don Mclean’s Vincent. However, about two years ago I happened upon the movie Loving Vincent while I was on a flight to somewhere overseas, for what seemed like the millionth time that year. It was the worlds first fully painted feature film (65,000 pieces of art in total), that animated his artwork to tell the story of his last weeks through interviews with characters from his life. It blended truths with a story line that introduces viewers to Van Gogh’s work, giving them a new life in this unusual kind of biopic. The protagonist of the film, Armand Roulin, is charged with delivering Vincent’s final letter to his beloved brother, Theo. Through the course of the film Armand finds a new respect for Vincent as he talks with those who knew Vincent during his last six weeks. Armand was trying to piece together exactly what had happened. Trying to understand his state of mind, how he was feeling, who his enemies were, and what secrets he had. Ultimately, it is left up to the viewer to form their own conclusions about what transpired in the time leading to his death. Armand’s character simply lays out for the viewer the kinds of relationships Van Gogh had in his last weeks. The movie provided me a new appreciation for his artwork as well as created interest in his life. Like I said, I knew who he was, but nothing much about him. After watching this movie I started reading what I could about him, watching documentaries, and finding love in his artworks.
In my consumption of all things Van Gogh, I began to fall in love with his view of the world, the way he expressed himself in writing, and in the way he loved. Sure, it’s hard to avoid the cliche reasoning as to why I and many others love his work. He was a tortured soul, but he was more complicated than that. He was educated, was well-read, fluent in multiple languages, and his photographic memory allowed him to vibrantly recall the details of a Rembrandt he’d seen years earlier. His devotion to his art speaks of a man who was not afraid to take risks. His artistic choices were thought out, deliberate. He never wanted to conform or copy the trend. He was true to himself despite the odds and carried on even if he couldn’t sell his art. Posthumously being known as the Father of Expressionism is not difficult to understand when looking at his colors, brushwork, and designs. He sold more than just what you saw visually. He sold the emotion, the connection to what he was seeing through the lens of his pain and difficulties. His uniqueness was what made him brilliant. He was stubborn and selfish yet possessed tenderness and compassion. He had his demons and he had his rays of hope.
In the last minutes of the Doctor Who episode “Vincent and the Doctor” the Doctor and Amy brought Vincent to a modern day exhibit of his work at the Muse D’Orsay in Paris, where he overhears Dr. Black give his thoughts on his artwork, thoughts that resonated with me.
“His command of color, the most magnificent. He transformed the pain of his tormented life into ecstatic beauty. Pain is easy to portray, but to use your passion and pain to portray the ecstasy and joy and magnificence of our world. No one had ever done it before. Perhaps no one ever will again. To my mind, that strange, wild man who roamed the fields of Provence was not only the world's greatest artist, but also one of the greatest men who ever lived.”
- Dr. Black, Doctor Who, Episode 10
I will never know Vincent Van Gogh, but I feel like I do.
The Museum…
On one of my many adventures to Europe, I was finally able to spend time in Amsterdam where my number one bucket list item for the city was to visit the Van Gogh Museum. I was lucky enough to get a ticket during my stay, as they tend to sell out (or so I had been told by friends). *Pro-tip, purchase your tickets online before you go.*
Entering the museum was just like any other time, until I walked into gallery on the first floor.
I was struck instantly by the eyes of Van Gogh.
Self Portrait in Felt Hat, 1887 . Collection of the Van Gogh Museum, Amsterdam.
As I set foot in the gallery the first work I stopped at was Self Portrait with Pipe, Spring 1886. I had seen a few of his portraits in books and on internet searches but they’re so flat, so one dimensional, that when you see the piece in person you realize what you’d been missing. Van Gogh had painted many self portraits throughout the years, playing with colors and textures, forms, and expressions. When you walk through a room lined with his many portraits it’s easy to see. Moving from one portrait to the next I kept getting stopped by his eyes. It was just an art piece, it’s inanimate… yet the life that he was able to be express was hauntingly beautiful. The age old expression that the eyes are a window to the soul, never felt so real as it did in those moments. We were given glimpses into his head space and his emotions. We might not ever fully comprehend the story behind the art but, it’s there for us to see if we just pay attention. Maybe he was trying to get us to understand that point — if we just paid attention more, maybe we could understand more.
Self Portrait with Pipe, 1886. Collection of the Van Gogh Museum, Amsterdam.
The other amazing thing that stood out to me while walking through the gallery was that the shape of his eyes. The were kept consistent despite technique. Each portrait added to the printed timeline on the wall, allowing us to visually see the correlation between period and style. I also couldn’t help humming to myself the Don Mclean song. So like the softy that I am, I put my headphones in and listened to the Josh Groban version of the song a few times… ok maybe I had it on repeat… and maybe I was listening to it while walking through the whole museum. I also decided to sit for a moment in the gallery, in front of Self Portrait in Front of the Easel, 1888 and decided to people watch. It was a sight to see, so many people wandering from piece to piece. Some giving due diligence, but the majority of them just wandering from piece to piece. Everyone goes through museums differently, I get that. Not everyone is interested in the same things. But, it was just amazing to watch people glance, and then go about their day.
While sitting on the bench I had a moment where II flashed back to the Doctor Who episode and imagined what Van Gogh’s reaction would be if he was sitting there next to me, watching the people go by. On the one hand, I imagine that he would be elated having a museum dedicated just to him and having people fawn over his life’s work. On the other, I imagine him being confounded by the people who spared less than a minute at artworks that took hours to complete, yet they paid to just glimpse them. But that’s neither here nor there as it’s something that will never happen . Unless there happens to be a time machine laying around — anyone know the 1-800 number for the Tardis?
As I continued floor by floor of the museum, I became engrossed in the story that was unfolding. I think I aimlessly wondered from room to room and sometimes wound up back in the same places I had just walked from. I remember passing certain people time and time again. I must have looked dazed. The second floor of the museum covers his life as a peasant, his changing perspectives, his time in Paris and who he made friends with while there, and the Japanese influence he fell in love with. Japan is one of my favorite places so I can understand his draw to it. It was there on the second floor that I was finally able to see many of the works displayed in books and in the documentaries, up close. Sunflowers, The Yellow House (the Street), The Bedroom, Irises, The Potato Eaters, Almond Blossom, and Pollard Birches - all pieces with details that I’ve missed. The more that I looked at each work the more the color and the brushstrokes spoke. He used his color choices to define space, like how he illustrated the climate in The Yellow House with the sun directly shining on the facade facing you contrasting the greens in the shadows and the blue sky.
It wasn’t until I came to The Window in the Studio which was painted in October of 1889, that the tears came. In May of 1889 Van Gogh admitted himself as a patient to the Saint Paul de Mausole asylum in Saint Rémy de Provence until the following year. There were a series of events that culminated in his voluntary admission. Starting with his relationship with painter Paul Gauguin who moved to Arles to work with Van Gogh. One of Van Gogh’s dreams was to create an artist colony in Arles and he thought with Gauguin moving in, his dream would become a reality. However, their relationship soon deteriorated as tensions over how art should be created rose. Van Gogh believed that working from reality was the way to go and Gauguin believed that imagination was more important. One argument lead to another until one night just before Christmas in 1889, Van Gogh was left so distraught from their arguing that he cut off his left ear. According to the doctor that treated Van Gogh, when asked what drove him to cutting his ear off, Van Gogh’s reply was that it was personal matter.
The Yellow House (The Street), 1888. Collection of the Van Gogh Museum, Amsterdam, Netherlands.
Window in the Studio, 1889. Collection of the Vincent Van Gogh Museum, Amsterdam, Netherlands.
In a letter to his brother, Theo, Van Gogh wrote “I well knew that one could break one’s arms and legs before, and that then afterwards that could get better but I didn’t know that one could break one’s brain and that afterwards that got better too.” After coming to his senses while hospitalized he soon found himself readmitted due to new breakdowns. These episodes Van Gogh experienced often left him confused, scrambling to pick up the pieces of life in between them. Life for him did not get better as his neighbors in Arles had become afraid of him and wanted him out of his apartment in the Yellow House. In April, he admitted himself to the asylum in Saint Rémy. After May 1890 he moved to a village near Paris called Auvers in order to be closer to his brother. Despite painting consistently in his final months, he never recovered… he lost hope… and eventually took his own life.
Standing in front of The Window in the Studio, all of that kind of slammed into me and tears welled up. Coupled with Josh Groban singly sweetly in my ear about Vincent. During his stay at the asylum he threw himself into his art, hating idleness. He enlivened his studio with color using dark colors for outlines rather than letting he colors define the space like he did in The Yellow House. I interpret this painting a little differently, Vincent might have just been painting what he was looking at, but to me it’s a commentary on his mindset. Outside his window was a world vibrant and clear, full of beauty. The color he chose for the sky is the first thing my eye is drawn to. Inside his room, which was more like his mind, was still vivd in color but was muddy and muted. Remember my reference to windows and souls? Here it’s literal. The window is his how he looks out on the world, but the room is his mind trying to compute and cope with the world in the midst of his mental breakdowns. It’s a very fascinating thought. To me, this artwork represents more than just the room he stayed. It represents his mindset. Then when you think about the story of his life, his relationships and the emotions he was processing, it’s hard for this to not be one of my favorites, actually it is my favorite work of his.
Do you have a favorite Van Gogh piece? If so, what it is and why! I’m always interested in hearing other peoples thoughts.
P.S.
The whole reason I even started this blog post, was because the Houston Museum of Fine Arts just opened an exhibit Vincent van Gogh: His Life in Art which will showcase his evolution as an artist. It is the only venue that will house this exhibit of 50 masterworks and I’m SO excited to go see it. The show runs until June 27th and I’ll be there to see it in April. From what I’ve been able to read about the exhibit and the few clips on it, there are some interactive areas where they’ve blown up images or recreated the scenes for you to be a part of. I’m hoping to have a moment with my window once again and visit with some of my other friends.
